Delilah’s POV
The child’s sobs clung to me like little hooks, pulling at my skin even as I bent to wipe her tears. Myra’s eyes were red, her lashes wet and spiky, her doll crushed in her trembling hands.
“Shh,” I cooed, soft and syrupy, stroking her damp hair as though I were the most patient of guardians. “Don’t cry, little dove. You’ve already been through enough today. Let me help.”
She hiccupped against my shoulder, her tiny fists rubbing her eyes. “But Elijah… Caleb… they’ll take them away. They didn’t do anything wrong.”
My smile curved sweetly, though inside I smirked. Poor, foolish thing—so easy to sway when she was afraid. “I’ll speak to your Daddy for you,” I promised, rocking her slightly as if I could lull her with motion alone. “He listens to me. I’ll make sure he understa
